Dream State
by rachelariella
Summary: Reagan Hargreeve's trip back home was meant to last a few days at the most. That was until her long lost brother returns from the future and she gets an unwarranted preview of what the end of the world looks like. Will the Umbrella Academy finally live up to it's legacy and save the world? Or will Reagan have to make the ultimate sacrifice to ensure everyone's survival?
1. 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any TUA content or characters. Only my ocs.  
**Summary: **#00.00, or otherwise known as Reagan Hargreeves, spent years distancing herself from her father and her past. It's only when her Reginald Hargreeves dies that she's convinced by her brother, Diego, to return home. Her trip was meant to last a couple days at the most, just enough time to bury her father and catch up with her siblings. That was until their long lost brother, Number Five, returns from the future and Reagan gets an unwarranted preview of what the end of the world looks like. Will the Umbrella Academy finally live up to it's legacy and save the world? Or will Reagan have to make the ultimate sacrifice to ensure everyone's survival?  
**Author's Note: **Welcome to my newest obsession. Quick shoutout to my pseudo-beta WildRecklessYouthInMe for helping me make this chapter readable. Please leave a review, favorite, or like if you've enjoyed this chapter and let me know what you think.

**1**

_"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."_

Sunlight streamed through the curtains as Reagan woke with a headache that pounded to a steady beat. Slowly, she uncovered her face. A heavy sigh escaped her lips when her alarm cut through the peaceful quiet. Her hand lifted weakly to the nightstand and silenced it. She blinked her eyes a few times to adjust to the early morning sun.

Reagan shoved the blankets off and swung her legs over the edge of her bed before she could fall asleep again. Or at least attempt to. The act of falling asleep was a task requiring the aid of several sleeping pills and sedatives. Unfortunately, it was only when Reagan did fall into a drug-induced slumber that the dreams would stop. If she didn't, her illusion-like dreams would continue to swallow her world whole like an infectious virus, making it impossible to sleep.

Pulling on her pants as she stood to face her closet, Reagan staggered back startled when she saw she was no longer alone in her room. "Fuck!"

Standing by her closet was a middle-aged man dressed in a tuxedo two sizes too large for his frame.

"_He bought it at a garage sale for ten dollars_," Mrs. Castro had told her a few years ago when she and her husband had Reagan over for their weekly dinner. "_He was so proud_."

At the thought of the older woman, her gaze turned to the ceiling. The Castro's apartment was directly above hers. Rosita was probably still sleeping, having worked another night shift at the local hospital.

Reagan briefly looked back at the man she'd seen nearly every day for two years. Running a hand through her hair, she walked over to her dresser. She rummaged through a couple drawers for some clothes before grabbing a blouse from her closet. Without glancing in Mr. Castro's direction, she made her way to her bathroom and shut the door behind her. She locked it even though it would be useless against Mr. Castro.

"I love you, my darling."

When Reagan looked at the mirror over the sink, she could see Mr. Castro looming behind her, but dove into her morning routine nonetheless. It was always harder to ignore the dreams that touched her reality. Even more so if it was a person she knew or cared about. Unfortunately, Mr. Castro was both for her.

"I'll be back soon, I promise," Mr. Castro said. Reagan lifted her gaze to see him holding a hand in the air, cupped as if to be touching someone's face. That was where Rosita was standing in her own dream, but Reagan only ever saw one side of things. "I already miss you, my love." A pang of sympathy shot through her when she realized that Rosita was dreaming about the last time she said goodbye to her husband.

Leaning over into the shower, Reagan turned the dial until the water was running at full speed, knowing that it would be enough to drown out the sound of the one-sided conversation.

* * *

It had been over an hour since her last appointment of the day ended, so when the buzz echoed through her spacious office that night, Reagan didn't know what to expect. She pressed the button on her security system and the feed from the camera outside her door popped up on screen. Reagan dropped her feet from her desk, leaning forward once she realized who was at her door.

Out of all her siblings, he was the one she saw the most. That didn't mean she would ever expect him to show up at her workplace out of the blue. If she were anywhere else, she would've been certain that he wasn't real, that someone dreamt him up.

Reagan stood from her chair and went to the door. She inched it open, half-expecting Diego to be gone in the time it took her to answer. But he was still there, leaning against the door frame as he ran a finger over the edge of a knife. After years of practice, she easily ignored the words and images that appeared in the space above him, which illustrated every thought that ran through his head. She cocked an eyebrow when she noticed his nighttime attire.

"What the hell are you wearing?" She questioned.

He looked up at her with a smirk. "I was working when I saw the news."

"What news?"

Her brother's eyes narrowed and he straightened up. "You haven't heard?"

"I've been working all day," she said with a careless shrug.

"Right…" Diego hummed. Reagan rolled her eyes when he pushed past her to get inside. "Your habit of self-isolation made it really difficult to find this place." He removed his knife holster and dropped it on the coffee table before collapsing onto the couch, making himself at home.

Reagan closed the door and turned to him. "Well, if you were invited, I would've given you specific directions."

"Sorry. I should've called—oh wait," Diego stopped twirling the knife in his hand, tilting his head, "that's impossible since you don't have a phone."

"Actually, I do have one," Reagan corrected as she walked over to her desk. She pulled open the top drawer and took out the cellphone she'd been forced to get so that her clients could get in touch with her. She gave it a quick wave to show her brother. "I just didn't give you the number."

Diego put a hand to his chest, pretending to pout like he did when they were kids. He'd used that exact face every night to manipulate their mother into giving him second servings of dessert. "Ouch, that one hurt, Reg."

"Don't call me that." She dropped the phone back into the drawer and went over to Diego, opting to sit on the coffee table beside his knives. "What news were you talking about before?"

He huffed as he sat up. Leaning forward, he opened his mouth to speak, but it was unnecessary. Reagan raised a hand to stop him and turned her attention to the newest images and words that filled the room. It took only a moment for her to piece it all together. Once it clicked, she looked back at her brother.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Diego said, relaxing into the couch. His gaze bounced around the room for a moment before settling back on Reagan. "What are you seeing right now?"

She bit her lip as she glanced at the dream occupying the space where her desk had been a few seconds ago. "I think it's the inside of a house. It's dark and there's a family sitting on the floor. They have their mouths and hands tied with duct tape. They look scared." Closing her eyes, she let out a quiet breath and refocused her attention on Diego. "I'm guessing that was your job tonight."

"Part of it," Diego said.

"It's the only part that matters," Reagan responded. She ran a finger over one of his knives. "The violent, bloody parts might be fun for you, but it isn't why you do it. You do it to help people."

Diego pursed his lips as he chuckled softly. He swung the knife in his hand, pointing its sharp blade. "Did you just shrink me?"

Reagan smiled, shaking her head. "I didn't learn that from some psych textbook, Diego. I learned it from being your sister."

"Right, well, as fun as this is, we should get going if we're going to beat traffic."

"It's eight o' clock," Reagan said as she handed his knife holster to him. He gave a dismissive wave of his hand before pulling it on.

Standing from the table, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I appreciate you coming all the way down here to tell me about dad, but I'm not going back there."

Diego cocked an eyebrow. "To the house?"

"To the family." Reagan glanced at the family portrait sitting on one of her bookshelves. "I can handle being around one or two of you, but being there with you all at the same time isn't a good idea."

"You were able to do it when we were kids."

"Yeah and I nearly lost my goddamn mind because of it," Reagan reminded him. "And I'm not talking Klaus' kind of crazy, I mean the lying in a mental hospital so doped up I don't even know what day it is kind of crazy."

"What about the pills?"

"The older I get, the less potent they are. I couldn't exactly ask dad to help me. He'd just want something in return, and I couldn't do that anymore."

Diego sighed. "Why didn't you say something?"

"You don't think I wanted to? I thought about calling you or Allison or Klaus a hundred times, but I know better than that," Reagan said. She continued when her brother raised an eyebrow in question. "We're all fucked up, Diego. We all have our own shit to deal with, and adding another thing to you guys' plates wasn't going to do any good. Besides, it's not like any of you can help me. I'm on my own with this, just like I always have been."

Diego stepped toward her, opening his mouth as if to say something, but he quickly closed it again. Reagan watched him struggle as he did this repeatedly, his brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment, he met her gaze and his usual hard expression softened. "I—I know that Klaus is the only one that ever came close to under—understanding what you're going through, but you were never alone, Reagan. I'm sorry that I made you feel like you were for all these years."

Reagan fought the urge to hug him, knowing he wasn't a fan of displays of affection. Instead, she smiled and let out a breathless laugh. "Shit, Diego. If I didn't know any better I'd say that hole in your chest might've actually sprouted a heart."

Diego rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well if you tell anyone I ever said that, I'll kill you."

"That's more like it," Reagan murmured as she swiveled on her heel and went to her desk. She grabbed her bag and phone from the drawers before facing her brother again. "We'll have to stop by my apartment for some clothes."

"It's on the way," Diego said, a smile turning up the corners of his lips. He looked back at her after opening the door. "I'm glad you're coming, though. You're the only one who can stop me from beating the shit out of Luther when he starts on his 'I'm number one' bullshit."

Reagan smirked. "I think you mean I'm the only one who can stop Luther from crushing your skull between his fingers."

"I'd like to see him try," Diego said. He pulled another knife from his holster and twirled it between his fingers while Reagan locked her office door behind them.

She patted him on the shoulder as she walked past him. "Careful what you wish for, Diego."

* * *

_17 years ago_

"Dad could at least pretend that he thinks my powers are useful," Reagan mumbled as she used a baby wipe to clean the blood off her brother's face. She clamped her hand down on Ben's leg when he began to bounce it again. He mouthed an apology after she shot him a look. Mom wanted him to take a bath, but Ben had a deeply rooted hatred of them ever since his powers first manifested during one. Luckily for him, Reagan happily volunteered to help him clean up.

Diego peered up from the collection of knives he'd laid out on the floor to polish while he kept his siblings company. "He does. He just doesn't want you to get hurt."

Both Reagan and Ben narrowed their eyes at him, the disbelief written plainly on their face. Reagan shook her head before going back to cleaning her brother's face. "He named me Number Zero. That's not even a real number!"

"Yeah it is. Otherwise people wouldn't say it," Diego said, pointing at her with a blade. "And it goes before the number one, so, technically, you should be in charge."

Reagan scoffed, but couldn't help smiling at the idea. "I'd pay to see you try to tell Luther that."

"You wouldn't even have to pay me," Diego retorted. He placed a clean knife into his case that would hold them until their next mission. He began wiping the blood off the next one without pause.

"Diego's right," Ben said, the sound of his voice catching his sibling's attention. Out of the eight of them, he was the least talkative, and almost never spoke unless spoken to. "I thought it was cool when you made that guy shoot his friends."

"Yeah, that was pretty awesome," Diego said before looking to Reagan. "What did you make him see, anyways?"

"The cops coming into the bank. It was kind of sad how fast he was willing to shoot them."

Diego shook his head, a smirk appearing on his lips. "No, it was cool that you were able to think that up so quickly. Dad should have been there to see it. He would've been proud."

"Now, I know you're lying," Reagan said, throwing a pillow at him from Ben's bed. He caught it easily and threw it right back at her. She leaned out of the way just in time so it hit the wall behind her instead of her face.

"We just gotta find a way to show dad that you're just as important as the rest of us," Diego said.

Reagan shot him an incredulous look. "And how do we do that when he spends all day locked in his office?"

"Easy," Diego said. The smile that crept onto his face only worried his sister and brother even more. "You make him dream it."

* * *

_present day…_

"Do you think they're all coming?"

Reagan nodded, her forehead moving against the window of Diego's car. "I don't see why they wouldn't. This is pretty much what we've all been waiting for since we were kids."

Her brother chuckled. "You've wanted him dead that long, huh?"

"Not dead, necessarily. Just… gone." She raised an eyebrow when she glanced over at Diego. "Are you trying to tell me that I am the only one in this car that thought about it?"

"I didn't say anything," Diego said, fixing his gaze to the street ahead.

"You didn't have to," Reagan reminded him. "I know you were doing it on purpose, though. You hated him as much as the rest of us."

"God, I hope Vanya sits this one out," Diego quickly changing the subject. "People still quote that stupid book to me as if it was all accurate."

"Did you even read it?"

"I couldn't get past the third chapter." He slid a glance in her direction. "Did you?"

"Yeah, it was pretty good once you get past the fact that she aired all our family's dirty laundry for a quick buck. And, just so you know, she did portray you pretty accurately." She raised a hand to his face and squeezed his chin between her fingers. "That resting grumpy face and all."

Diego whipped his head out of her grasp as his expression soured. "I'm not grumpy."

"Grumpy, angry, perpetually pissed off. Tomato tomahto."

She smiled when she heard him sigh heavily. He gripped the steering wheel so tight that she would have seen his knuckles turn white if it weren't for his thick black gloves. After a few moments of silence that Diego was obviously using to calm down, he cleared his throat. "My point is that it would be a good idea if she doesn't come back."

"She's still our sister."

"Our sister that aired our family's dirty laundry for a quick buck," Diego reiterated. "Those are your words, not mine."

"Oh, and I'm sure what you have to say is much nicer," Reagan countered. "Besides, it's not like our lives haven't been front page news since we were kids. I didn't really mind that part. I just wish she would've given me a heads up before I saw it sitting on a shelf at the store."

"Well, I wish she hadn't done it all."

Reagan looked at him and dropped her jaw, mimicking disbelief. "Really? I never would've guessed."

Diego sighed. "You're still a smartass, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, you're still a pain in the ass, too," Reagan said, "but I still love you. Just like I still love Vanya even though she did a shitty thing and I still love Luther even though he's a royal dick that had to go to the moon to get away from us."

"What about Klaus and Allison? You still love them?"

Reagan raked her fingers through her hair, leaning her head against her hand. "Diego, I'm cursed to love every single one of you until the day I die. No amount of fights or shitty things that are done and said will ever change that."

Just then, Diego pulled into the back alley behind the large mansion. She peered out the window to take in the sight of the place that held so many memories. It was hard to believe that she let herself come back after spending so many years trying to stay away.

Diego sighed as he shut off the car and turned to look at his sister "Welcome home, Reg."

* * *

Everything was exactly the same. It was as if the Academy had remained untouched by time, still acting as a shrine to their so-called glory days. Reagan had been standing in the doorway of her bedroom for several minutes when she heard someone walk up behind her.

She spun on the heels of her boots and and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was Luther who'd joined her. His smile was hesitant, but it was easy to assume that he was happy to be home after being millions of miles away for so long.

"Hey, Luther," Reagan said, smiling sweetly. She took a couple of slow steps forward to shorten the distance between them, but made sure not to get too close. It didn't take a psychologist to see that he was still uncomfortable with his new appearance.

He returned her smile. "Hi, Reagan. It's good to see you."

"You, too. You look good. Healthy." Her theory was proven true when he shook his head and dropped his gaze, refusing to accept her compliment. She stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. "I mean it, Luther."

He swallowed hard before pulling out of her reach. "Thank you, Reg."

She sighed at the nickname, but decided not to say anything about it. Her brother already had enough on his mind. "Have you told anyone else about what happened yet?"

Luther shook his head, glancing down the hallway to make sure no one was there to hear them discuss it. "No, I… I don't know if I can."

"Why not?"

"Once they know, it'll change things. They won't be able to look at me the same way."

Reagan smiled sympathetically. "You mean Allison won't be able to look at you the same way."

Her brother pursed his lips at her implication, but could only nod. "Apart from dad and Pogo, you're the only one that knows. I didn't even want to—"

"—tell me," Reagan finished for him when he couldn't bring himself to, pulling the two words out of the air above his head. She shrugged when he looked at her. "I get it, Luther. Some things you want to keep to yourself, and that's hard to do when you have a sister that can literally see everything that goes through your brain. If it makes you feel better, I wish it were different, too. That I was different. But I haven't told anyone if that's what you were thinking, and I never will if that's what you want."

"It is," Luther said. "For now, at least."

"All right, Spaceboy," Reagan said, earning a quick smile from her brother. "This stays between us… on one condition."

Her brother's body tensed and his eyes narrowed as he waited to hear her finish her proposition.

"Let me hug you," Reagan said. She continued before he could argue. "You've been on the moon for four years. That's four years without any real human contact and as the one who's agreed to keep your biggest secret, I think I deserve the spot as the first person to welcome you back. Also, as your sister who hasn't seen or talked to you in four years, I'd just really like to hug you."

Luther only hesitated to answer for a couple seconds, but he eventually nodded. She closed the rest of the distance between them, watching him closely. While she did miss him and only wanted to prove that his new appearance didn't matter to her, she wasn't going to force him to do something he didn't want to.

Reagan halted once she was close enough to touch him and waited for him to initiate the hug. After a second, he smiled down at her and put out his arms. She stepped forward to embrace her brother and slid her hands around his back. Resting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes. While she'd had plenty of ups and downs with her siblings over the years, in the end she always felt the safest when she was around them. At least that hadn't changed since she'd been gone.

* * *

"I heard a rumor…" Reagan said as she stepped into Allison's room, "that the one and only Allison Hargreeves has finally graced us with her presence."

Her sister turned to face her, already wearing one of her million dollar smiles. Unlike with Luther or Diego, Allison never had a problem with hugs, so Reagan didn't hesitate to pull her into one.

"God, I've missed you," Reagan mumbled into her curly hair. "There's too much goddamn testosterone in this house."

Allison laughed as she hugged her tightly. "I've missed you, too, Ray."

"And thank you for not calling me Reg." She let go of her sister and stepped back. "I've always hated that nickname."

"Reminds you too much of dad's name," Allison recalled aloud. "The boys only call you that because they know how much you hate it."

"Yeah, well the next one that calls me that is getting kicked in the balls," Reagan said with a smirk making Allison laugh under her breath.

"I don't doubt it."

Reagan walked over to her sister's bed and sat down, running a hand over some of the clothes in the open suitcase beside her. "So, how you been, Al?"

She sighed quietly and joined her sister on the bed. "Uh, it's been hard, but I'm not giving up."

Reagan grabbed her hand, giving it a light squeeze. "I hope you know that I'm proud of you. You made a mistake, but you learned from it and now you're trying to make it right. That's more than dad ever did for us."

"I just hope that I'm not too late," Allison said. She swallowed hard and put her other hand on top of Reagan's. "But I'm glad you're here. I honestly didn't expect you to come."

"Diego talked me into it. It's not every day that we're all in the same place." Reagan shrugged. "Maybe that'll make it worth it the time."

Her sister nodded. "Have you seen Vanya?"

"No, but Diego told me she's here. He wasn't too happy about it."

"Yeah, well, he should suck it up," Allison said, shaking her head. "She's still our sister."

"That's what I said, but you know Diego. He's not going to let anyone tell him what to do. Even after all these years, he's still a stubborn pain in the ass."

"It's almost like nothing's changed. Except for his outfit."

Reagan chuckled as she returned her sister's smile. "Yeah, he showed up at my door wearing it. For a split second I forgot I was alone and I thought I was dreaming it."

Tilting her head, Allison teased, "Well, it would be pretty hard to dream that thing up."

Allison sighed as she rested her head on her sister's shoulder and Reagan replied, "Every part of our lives has been too fucking insane for anyone else to imagine. That's how I've always known it's been real."

* * *

Reagan found Vanya sitting alone in the living room. She didn't expect anything else since her sister had always remained separate from the rest of them. Maybe that was their fault or maybe their father's, but Reagan became determined to try harder to bridge the gap between them as she got older. She visited Vanya as often as she could and made sure to call her at least once a week. Their relationship had lagged since the publication of her book, but, unlike her brother, Reagan was more than ready to put it behind her.

"Van."

Her sister spun on the couch. A hesitant smile appeared on her lips when her gaze landed on Reagan. Slowly, she stood up. Her hands remained at her sides, tightening into fists as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Ray," she greeted nervously. If her demeanor hadn't already given it away, the way her voice cracked would have.

Reagan gave her a tight-lipped smile when she noticed the book lying on the couch. She pointed to her sister's novel as she stepped toward her. "I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I really did enjoy parts of it."

Vanya's gaze flickered to the book before returning to her sister. Narrowing her eyes, she angled her head toward her. "You read it?"

"Of course I did," Reagan said as she bent to pick it up. Turning it over in her hand, she opened the front cover. "I mean, I'm not going to lie to you. Of course there were parts I didn't necessarily agree with or appreciate—like you comparing me to a schizophrenic—but overall it summed up our childhood pretty well."

"I'm sorry," Vanya murmured, clenching her jaw. "My editor—"

"You don't have to apologize, Vanya. I remember calling you much worse when we fought as kids. I was bitch to you back then. We all were, but I never understood how much it affected you. Your book made me realize just how much everything I did hurt you and how hard I would have to work to fix it."

Vanya shook her head, her expression pinched with confusion. "I thought you were angry at me like the others."

"I was for a while. I thought you owed it to me to at least warn me that you were putting all our family secrets out there for everybody to read," Reagan said. She shrugged, a sigh seeping from her lips. "But then I realized that if I had just been the sister you always deserved, maybe you never would've written that book in the first place."

Vanya held her gaze for a moment, unable to properly articulate her thoughts. Reagan glanced up at the space above her at the few words that did go through her sister's head, but chose to wait and see what she'd actually say.

After a few more seconds, Vanya let out a quiet laugh. "Who knew you becoming a therapist could actually be a good thing?"

Reagan scoffed and dropped onto the couch. "Not dad. He said I was wasting my life, going to school to learn something I already had a natural gift for."

Vanya sat down beside her sister, clasping her hands in her lap, and nodded. "Yeah, that definitely sounds like something dad would say."

"Well, if there's one thing us Hargreeves are good at it's proving people wrong."

"I think you mean it's what the rest of you are good at. I've pretty much proven everybody right," Vanya said as she leaned back beside Reagan.

"No, I don't believe that," she said, shaking her head. Reaching across the space between them, Reagan took her sister's hand. "You might have finished your book, but your story isn't over yet, Vanya. You still have a lot of life left to live and more than enough time to prove every person who has called you ordinary wrong. Including yourself."

* * *

Sighing, Reagan folded her arms over her chest as she leaned against her bedroom door. She was hoping to get a minute alone without all of her sibling's thoughts bleeding into her consciousness. Instead, she found her brother rummaging through her bags. It didn't take a genius to know what Klaus was searching for.

"You're not gonna find any scripts in there," Reagan said, stepping into her room. Klaus straightened up suddenly and twirled around to face her. He broke into a wide grin when she raised an eyebrow at him. Putting his arms out, he walked forward and threw them around her.

"It's so good to have you back, Reg," Klaus said as he let her go. Reagan shifted her weight, preparing to knee him between his legs, but her brother protectively clasped his hands in front of his crotch before she could do anything.

"Not so fast," he warned.

Reagan scoffed. "Allison told you, didn't she?"

His head lolling to the side, Klaus said, "Us siblings gotta look out for each other."

"Of course," Reagan said, mimicking his gesture, "which is why I'm going to tell you once again that I don't own any prescription pads. I'm a psychologist, not a psychiatrist."

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't know what either of those words mean."

"It means you won't be getting any drugs from me, Klaus. So, pack it up and move on."

Klaus stepped back, placing a hand over his chest as he gasped. He jutted out his lower lip and angled his head toward her. "Oh, come on, you don't really think that's the only reason I came in here, do you?"

"No," Reagan said as she moved toward him. Smiling, she put a hand on his shoulder and wrapped her fingers around the collar of his jacket. "I also know it was to steal my shit."

With one fluid motion, she yanked off his jacket and flipped it upside down, making all the contents of its pockets spill out onto the floor. Reagan put a hand on her hip and looked up at her brother. "You were saying?"

Pursing his lips, Klaus pointed to the items on the floor. "I have no idea how those got in there."

Reagan rolled her eyes, sighing softly as she knelt down to gather up a necklace, multiple rings, and three pairs of earrings. She paused when she recognized a few small knick knacks that he must have taken before he got to her room.

Peering up at her brother, she cocked her head to the side. "Are these dad's?"

Klaus bit his lip for a moment to keep himself from responding, but his resolve quickly dissolved. "Mayhaps."

"Well, you can keep those," Reagan said as she stood up and threw her jewelry back into her suitcase.

"But you know what I'm going to do with them," Klaus said, his eyes narrowing. He picked their father's stuff up off the floor. "I at least expected a lecture about how I'm slowly killing myself or something morose like that."

"I'm not going to waste my breath or money on it anymore, Klaus. You're not going to stop using until you decide that it's something you actually want. When that happens, I'll be here for you, but until then, do whatever the fuck you want. Just don't pawn my shit to do it."

"Yes, mom," Klaus said, giving her a quick salute. Reagan huffed a breath and handed his jacket back to him.

"Spend it well, asshole."

Klaus winked as he smirked back at her. "Always do, princess."

She grabbed his hand when he started walking past her. Turning her head, she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Can you give us a minute?"

He met her gaze and nodded. "I'll be right outside. Within range."

She squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Klaus."

Sighing, he moved through the doorway. "Anything for my sister."

Reagan waited until he was in the hall to sit on her bed. She wet her lips before pressing them into a thin line. Clearing her throat, she lifted her gaze to the corner of her room where Ben had been standing the whole time.

"Hi, Ben," Reagan said, smiling softly. "Long time, no see."

* * *

_12 years ago…_

"God, what were you thinking, Ray?" Allison asked as she sat down beside her sister.

"You could've died," Luther added, folding his arms over his chest.

Diego nodded feverously. "Or—or worse."

"Please, do tell me what could be worse than dying, Diego?" Reagan retorted. She kept a hand pressed over the gunshot wound in her abdomen as she propped herself up against the pillows behind her.

"Being maimed," Klaus said from his spot behind the bar, "or paralyzed for the rest of your life."

"I know we're all worried, but none of that happened to her, okay? She's alive and mom said she'll be up and running around with us again in a week."

A smile crept onto Reagan's lips as she turned her gaze to Ben. Even though he'd been hovering by the door and hadn't said a word since they got home, she felt better knowing he was there.

"I'm glad you're okay, but you should have checked with me before pulling a stunt like that," Luther said with a shake of his head. "That's why I'm the leader."

Reagan scoffed as she narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Are you honestly telling me that you want me to check with you before I save your life?"

"No," Allison said, shooting Luther a scolding glare. She returned her attention to Reagan when he seemed to understand his mistake. "What he meant to say was thank you."

Clearing his throat, Luther forced a nod. "Thank you, Reagan, for what you did."

The siblings looked to the door when they heard it slide open and they all stiffened at the sight of their father. Even Reagan tried to sit up a little straighter as he strode into the room.

"I have another mission for you," their father announced. Reagan sighed, knowing what he was about to say next. "We leave in ten. Except for Number Zero. You're staying behind."

Reagan tried to mask her frustration as her siblings followed their father out of the room once they said goodbye to her. She knew it wouldn't be fair to ask them to skip missions just because of her, but that didn't change how much she hated not being able to go.

Ben was the only one left after Klaus skipped out into the hall and up the stairs. Reagan smiled when he sat down beside her on the couch and put a hand over hers.

"Don't worry, gummy," Ben said and Reagan's smile widened at the nickname that only he used for her. "We'll be back before you know it."

"You better be," Reagan said as she raised her chin defiantly. "If anything happens to you—to any of you—and I wasn't there to help stop it, I'd never forgive myself."

"Hey," Ben squeezed her hand, "nothing's going to happen to me or anyone else, I promise."

She forced a weak nod, but hung her head to hide that she'd started chewing nervously on her lip. It was one of her many tells that Ben would instantly recognize.

"I'll see you soon, gummy," he murmured after a moment of silence passed between them. Ben pressed his free hand to her cheek as he leaned closer, placing a kiss to the top of her hair.

Standing from the couch, he started toward the door, holding Reagan's hand until it slipped out of his grasp. She tried not to watch him go, but raised her gaze as he turned to close the door behind him. When he caught her staring, he smirked, throwing in a wink right before the door shut.

"He'll be back soon. He'll be back soon and everything will be fine," Reagan said, forcing herself to believe it.

How was she supposed to know that it would turn out to be a lie?

* * *

_present day…_

Most days Reagan wished that her telepathy was only auditory. It was probably a futile hope, but she allowed herself to believe that it would be easier to tune it all out if she could only hear thoughts. Throw on her headphones, turn up the music, and she'd have peace. Instead, she had to settle for when everyone else managed to have peaceful moments.

Luckily one of those moments came when she was lounging in her room. The music echoing through the house met her ears at the same time that her siblings thoughts began to fade from her view. It was even more of a relief since most of her siblings were thinking about their father. Seeing three different versions of Reginald Hargreeves lingering in her bedroom was not how Reagan wanted to spend her alone time.

She smiled when the music was turned up even louder, expelling the remaining daydreams of her father. After thirty seconds or so of just listening, Reagan slid off her bed as she began bobbing her head to the rhythm of the song. Her siblings weren't the only ones who needed a distraction. It was easy to let the memories that layered every inch of the house dampen any happiness she felt about being back with her siblings. Rolling her head back on her shoulders, Reagan spun in a circle. She brought her arms up above her head and snapped her fingers to the beat.

_I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be anyone around…_

Reagan bounced from one foot to the other as she twirled faster, letting her arms fan out around her. She slowed to a stop and balled one hand into a fist. Raising it to her mouth, she began singing into the imaginary microphone.

"I think we're alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound."

The music came to an abrupt stop. At the same time, a flash of lightning lit up Reagan's room and a strong rumble of thunder shook the whole house. The ceiling light dimmed as the sudden and unexpected storm continued outside, drawing her attention to the window. She could see that the sky had darkened due to the thick clouds gathering above the house.

Grabbing her jacket off the bed, Reagan jogged out of her room and down the hall to the stairs. Luther and Allison got there right after her, but neither of them seemed to have any idea of what was happening either. They filed down the stairs as quickly as they could, running into Diego and Vanya at the door that led into the courtyard. Reagan chose to stay at Diego's side as they walked outside, her jaw dropping at the sight of a glowing ball of blue energy floating twenty feet in the air.

Reagan slapped her brother on the arm. "You're all seeing this, right?"

Diego nodded. "This definitely ain't in your head, Reg."

"I don't know if that makes it better or worse," Reagan mumbled. She bit her lip and started to step forward to get a better look at the blue energy cloud, but Diego put his arm out in front of her.

"What is it?" Vanya asked from her spot beside Reagan.

"Don't get too close!" Allison warned, grabbing Luther's arm.

"Yeah, no shit!" Diego shouted above the howling wind, shooting Reagan a look. She knocked his hand out of the way, but decided that it was a safer idea to stay with her siblings.

"Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly," Luther said and Reagan cocked an eyebrow at him. She expected him to be the last to know what either of those words meant. Well, next to Diego. "Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two."

"Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan," Diego retorted.

Reagan stumbled sideways when Klaus came running out of the house and broke through their lineup, pushing Diego and Luther out of the way. She couldn't help but smirk at his resolve when he threw a fire extinguisher at the big ball of energy.

"What is that going to do?" Allison shouted.

Klaus threw his arms up. "I don't know. Do you have a better idea?"

He retreated behind Diego and Luther when the ball started to get bigger, electricity crackling as the wind whipped around them. Reagan narrowed her eyes when she thought she saw someone inside the energy ball. She tuned out her sibling's shouts as she focused on the elderly man who appeared to be de-aging as he moved closer. He had his mouth open as if he was screaming, but the sound must've gotten lost among all the other noises.

When he fell from the sky he now longer had the appearance of an old man, but rather that of a young boy. Reagan didn't hesitate to move toward him, but Diego firmly grasped her arm before she could get too close. She didn't know if that was to stop her from going to the kid or because he feared what the kid might do. Nevertheless, she stayed next to him as the boy pushed himself off the ground and faced the seven of them.

"Holy shit," Reagan murmured when she realized she recognized the boy.

"Does anyone else see little Number Five or is that just me?" Klaus asked, taking the question from her mouth.

The boy's eyes slanted suspiciously as he stared at them. He hung his head, seemingly looking over his outfit before looking back up. "Shit."

Reagan gaped as she tried to make sense of the fact that one of her long lost brothers had essentially come back from the dead. They never knew what happened to Five, he'd been gone for over 17 years. That's how long it had been since they were a whole team. Somehow they managed to keep on fighting without him after his mysterious disappearance, just like they did following Ben's death. Having Five back again should've made her feel great, giddy even. But much like the day that Ben said his last goodbye, she didn't feel happy nor at peace. The wretched twisting in her stomach could only be described as fear.

She didn't understand why until the world started to change around her. It was an experience she knew well, one that happened more times than she could count. She was "dreaming" as her father liked to call it. Except this one wasn't like any of the dreams she'd ever been forced into before.

Turning on her heels, she realized exactly where she was. The Academy was right behind her. Or at least what was left of it. The towering brick walls and wrought iron fences she was so used to seeing had all been reduced to smoldering remains, a charred shell of the house she grew up in barely standing. It looked as if someone had taken a blowtorch to it. Only it wasn't just the Umbrella Academy that was affected.

Peering around the street, she saw that all the buildings, cars, and people she would usually see outside her childhood home were destroyed by fires that were still burning. Reagan realized whatever happened to the Academy happened everywhere.

Someone had set the world on fire.


	2. 2

2

_"There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other."_

"Reagan?"

Diego's voice was what yanked her from the dream. She inhaled sharply as she turned to face him, but she knew better than to expect him to have seen what she just did. Her abilities were a curse she had always been forced to bear alone. This time was no different.

"You okay?" Diego asked.

Reagan bobbed her head as she gave the rest of the courtyard a quick glance. Everyone left except Diego and Five, who was standing by the door leading into the house. She tried to keep her expression neutral when her now-younger brother met her gaze. It wasn't difficult to figure out that it was his daydream she was forced into. A part of her wanted to try to believe that it was just that: a daydream. But she knew better.

No sane person would ever dream up the end of the world.

Diego stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Five, and put a hand on her shoulder. "You sure, Reg?"

She pushed his hand off her shoulder and gave him a smirk. "Don't call me that."

Reagan moved past Diego, striding toward the door where Five was still waiting. He flashed a smile and pulled open the door. She leaned over slightly, lowering her voice as she walked by him.

"We need to talk," she told him before continuing inside without a second look back. If her assumptions were right and it really was the apocalypse that was now staring them in the face, she sure as hell wasn't going to let her brother handle it on his own.

* * *

"What's the date?" Five asked as he went to get some bread off one of the shelves in the kitchen. "The exact date."

"The 24th," Vanya answered.

"Of what?"

"March."

Five paused for a second, which only Reagan seemed to catch. "Good."

"So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther asked, keeping his attention locked onto their brother. When Five didn't answer, he stood from his seat to tower over him. "It's been 17 years."

Five didn't flinch at Luther's attempt to be intimidating, though. He only scoffed as he stepped closer to him. "It's been a lot longer than that."

Reagan chuckled to herself when he teleported through Luther to the stool by the stove.

Luther sighed. "I haven't missed that."

"Where did you go?" Diego asked.

"The future," Five said. Once he grabbed the marshmallows off the high shelf, he jumped back to the table and continued making his sandwich. "It's shit by the way."

"Called it!" Klaus exclaimed, throwing a hand up.

Five looked over to where Reagan was sitting on the long table pushed against the wall, apart from the rest of her siblings. He watched her for a moment, as if waiting for her to say something, but when all she would give him was a faint tilt of her head, he turned back to his food.

Reagan leaned back against the wall behind her as the conversation between her siblings went on. She still remembered the last fight Five had with their dad, so hearing him admit the man was right about the whole time travel thing made her do a double take. Out of all her siblings, Five started out as the most defiant before the title went to Klaus. She never expected to see him this…levelheaded.

"Nice dress," Five said after looking up at Klaus.

"Oh, well, danke."

Vanya shook her head as she gestured at their brother. "Wait, how did you get back?"

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time," Five explained. Reagan didn't even try to understand half of what he'd said.

"That doesn't make any sense," Diego mumbled.

"Well, it would if you were smarter," Five said without pause. Diego launched himself up from his chair, but Luther stuck out his arm to block him before he could tackle the kid.

"How long were you there?"

"Forty-five years. Give or take."

Reagan had been trying to keep her distance for most of the conversation in hopes of avoiding accidentally revealing what she'd discovered, but she couldn't mask the shock from hearing that her brother had been stuck in the future for forty-five years. Diego and Luther sat back into their seats, unable to take their eyes off Five just like the rest of them.

"So, what are you saying? That you're 58?" Luther asked.

Five smiled sarcastically as he looked up from his meal. "No, my consciousness is 58. Apparently my body is now 13 again."

Vanya shook her head. "Wait, how does that even work?"

"Dolores kept saying the equations were off," Five said as he turned his back to them. "Eh, I bet she's laughing now."

"Dolores?"

Without answering Vanya, Five picked up the newspaper sitting on the table beside the cutting board. "Hm, guess I missed the funeral."

"How'd you know about that?" Luther asked, earning an eyeroll from Reagan.

"What part of the future do you not understand?" Five said before she could. "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yeah," Diego confirmed.

"No," Luther countered.

"Nice to see nothing's changed," Five said before walking out of the room.

Allison turned. "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"What else is there to say? The circle of life."

Reagan managed to wait a few moments before following her brother out of the basement. The rest of her siblings were still trying to process everything they'd just learned, but Reagan had a bigger issue on her mind.

She found him in his room, but his door was already shut so she knocked twice. "It's Reagan."

A few seconds later the door swung open and she couldn't help but laugh at what her brother had opted to change into. The Umbrella Academy uniform was probably the only thing he could find in his closet, but that didn't stop her from imagining how hard it was for him to put it on again after all these years.

"Love the suit," Reagan joked. Five rolled his eyes and moved aside so she could walk into his room. Once inside, he closed the door behind her.

"What did you need to talk about?" Five asked as he faced her.

"You know what."

He shook his head. "No, I really don't."

Reagan tilted her head as her eyes narrowed, silently daring him to continue his ruse. When he didn't budge, she shut her eyes and brought his dream back to the forefront of her mind. With a sigh she imagined putting it into a ball and pushing it out of her head. It was an exercise that her father came up with to help her train when she was young, but it was still just as effective.

Opening her eyes, she looked around the room to see that she was standing in the middle of the same destroyed street she saw earlier. She turned her attention back to her brother and watched his expression as he surveyed the dream-like illusion she was showing him. He sighed as his gaze met hers.

"So, you really did see it," Five said. Reagan didn't answer, knowing full well that showing him his own dream would be enough. Shaking his head, Five's shoulders slumped. "I imagined my return for years. I went over every detail and problem that I could think of, but somehow…I didn't account for this."

"What?"

Five gave a half-hearted shrug. "Your help."

* * *

"You know, as fun as it was watching you and Luther finally go at it, couldn't you have waited until after the memorial?"

Diego chuckled to himself and shook his head. "What happened to you stopping us?"

"What happened to you not being a royal pain in the ass?"

"I'll take a day off tomorrow," Diego said, smiling up at her. "Pinky promise."

"Well, I'll believe it when I see it," Reagan said. She strolled into his room and sat down beside him on the bed. Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. "Was it a mistake to come back?"

"For you or for me?"

"Both of us," Reagan paused as she grabbed his hand, "we come as a matching set, remember?"

Diego leaned his head against hers. "Well, it might not have been the smartest choice, but it definitely wasn't the wrong one. I mean, we got our brother back after all this time. Isn't that something to celebrate?"

"Yeah," Reagan said. She shut her eyes and tried to keep her mind off all the extra issues that arrived alongside Five.

"Do you still think about him? Ben?"

Reagan swallowed hard and lifted her head from Diego's shoulder. While a part of her was happy for the distraction from the looming apocalypse, she wasn't so sure talking about their dead brother was much better.

"It's hard not to, being in this house again. His pictures are all over the place and there are memories tucked into every corner," Reagan told him.

"_And seeing him whenever our addict brother summons him from the dead definitely doesn't help any either,_"is what she didn't tell him.

"Do you think if you were there that day that you could have saved him?"

Reagan laughed mirthlessly as she stood from the bed and faced her brother. "Why the fuck are you bringing this up again, Diego?"

Running a hand over one of the knives strapped to his leg, he shrugged. "I don't know. I just—with Five b—be—being h—"

Reagan sighed when she realized that he was having trouble speaking again. After years of practice with her and mom, he'd nearly gotten rid of his stutter completely, but it still came back whenever he was stressed.

She dropped to her knees in front of him and took his hands in hers. She smiled sincerely at him. "Remember what mom always said. Picture the words."

Reagan read the thoughts that popped up above his head and pushed them out of her mind so he could see them like she'd done with Five earlier. Diego's eyes skimmed the air above her head as he opened his mouth. "With Five being here… it just brings it all back."

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she thought about what he asked her. It was the same thing that she'd asked herself a million times before. She could lie to him, but he wasn't just her brother. As sad as it was, he was her best friend. If she couldn't say this to him, then who could she say it to?

"I don't know if me being there would've stopped Ben from dying that day… or if it would've gotten me killed, too," Reagan said, "but it doesn't matter either way. I can't go back to change it, and even if I could I'm not sure I would. The only reason that I wasn't there that day was because I got shot saving Luther. As much as I loved Ben, I could never be the one to decide whether or not his life was more important than Luther's."

"So, where does that leave you?"

Reagan bit her lip, lifting her shoulder in a half-shrug. "Forever missing the brother that I couldn't save."

* * *

Hugging her arms over her chest, Reagan nuzzled her face against the fabric of her coat. It was freezing outside, but she had to be there when her brother inevitably jumped from the basement to the back alley. As if on cue, Five appeared out of the blue surge of energy that trademarked his abilities.

"Five," Reagan said, pushing herself off the wall to step toward her brother.

She could hear him chuckle before facing her. His amused smile told her he hadn't expected to see her standing there. "How'd you know I was leaving?"

"For the past ten minutes, the only thing going through your head was 'Where's the coffee? I gotta find the coffee. Why isn't there any coffee? I need coffee. Gotta go find coffee somewhere.' That doesn't really leave much room for interpretation," Reagan explained. She shifted her weight as she pointed to him. "You do know that caffeine kills brain cells, right?"

"Why are you following me?" He asked, easily ignoring her question.

"Because we need to talk, Five."

"I thought we already talked."

Reagan scoffed. "I don't know what post-apocalyptic school you went to but saying 'your help' and then walking out of your room doesn't actually tell me how I'm supposed to help you stop the end of the world. You have to talk to me like an adult since apparently you are one now."

Her brother shrugged. "The world's ending. We have just over a week to stop it. What else is there to say?"

"Five, I can see every thought, memory, and idea that runs through that head of yours," Reagan retorted, balling her hands into fists at her sides. "I want to help you. Not just because it's the end of the world we're talking about, but because you're my brother and right now you are completely alone in this like you have been for the past 45 years. You're not alone anymore, though. You have me. So please, don't make this any harder by trying to hide things from me. Believe me when I say that won't work."

Five's jaw clenched as he watched her, mulling over everything she said. After a few more moments of silence passed between them, he nodded and gestured to the car.

"Get in. We're getting coffee."

* * *

The donut shop they ended up at was a few blocks from the house. Reagan didn't have to ask why Five decided to go there when there were several places closer to the house he could have chosen. They'd spent plenty nights there binging on donuts with their siblings. It was probably one of the few good memories that Five still had of their childhood. Reagan knew it was for her at least.

"You bring your wallet?" Her brother asked as they walked into the empty shop.

She rolled her eyes before pulling her wallet out of her pocket. "I'm cutting you off after two cups, though."

"You do know that technically I am older than you, right?"

"You might have the consciousness of a 58 year old, but you're still in the body of a 13 year old and I'm not in the mood to deal with you on a caffeine high. Besides, I'm the one footing the bill, so I can decide what I pay for."

Five cocked his head as he pulled out a seat for her. "Well, from what I heard, you can afford it."

Sighing, Reagan looked at him when he sat down beside her. "I decided to do something with my life that would let me stop living off dad's buck while helping people at the same time. Becoming a renowned psychologist just happened to be it."

"I didn't say a bad thing, Reg," Five said. He leaned forward to ring the bell on the counter and Reagan bit back the urge to correct him on her nickname. "I'm happy you found something that you enjoy. I know even when we were kids, being a front-page hero wasn't really your thing."

"I did like saving people, but I always wondered what happened to them after we left. How do people get over the horrors that we rescued them from? How do they live with it? How do they move on?" Reagan shrugged, propping her chin up on her hand. "Then one day I realized I could use my powers to help them figure it out."

"Dad always said you were the heart of the team," Five said, smiling at her. "I know he was trying to imply you were weak, but I always thought that made you a better hero than the rest of us."

Reagan narrowed her eyes at her brother. She couldn't remember if she'd ever heard him compliment her. "Jesus, Five. What the hell happened to you in the future?"

"Isn't that what we're here to talk about?"

Both of them turned to look over their shoulder when they heard the door open behind them. They were joined by an older man, who sat at the table beside Five. Reagan looked at her brother edgewise and caught the weak nod of his head, understanding that they'd have to wait to talk.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Reagan said after a comfortable silence fell over the donut shop. She stood from her seat and put her hand on Five's shoulder as she walked past him. "One cup at a time, please."

"Of course, mom," Five said, turning to peer up at her. She laughed to herself when she saw how wide his smile was. It looked almost painful.

Playing along with the ruse, she lifted a hand to pinch his cheek. "That's my boy."

Five's hand on the counter flinched and Reagan could tell he wanted to smack her hand away. Somehow, he fought the urge in order to keep up the appearance of them being a functional family. She smiled sweetly at the man sitting beside her brother before heading to the back of the donut shop where she remembered the bathroom being located.

Once the door swung closed behind her, she pulled out her phone and found Diego's number. Putting the phone to her ear, Reagan bit into her lower lip. She wasn't sure exactly what she was going to tell him, but that uneasy feeling in her gut still hadn't gone away. She just needed someone to tell her everything was going to be okay. Even if it was a lie.

"Where the hell did you go?" Diego asked when he answered the call.

Reagan shifted her weight. "Out…"

Her brother huffed. "Yeah, well, I had to get out of that house, but I'll be back tomorrow to take you home, okay?"

"What happened to us sticking together?"

"I'd offer to let you stay with me, but my place is kind of small," Diego said.

Reagan exhaled slowly. "No, it's fine. I'll just go back to the house once I'm done here."

"And where is that exactly?"

Glancing around the bathroom, she threaded a hand through her hair. "I, uh, needed to go for a walk."

"You're a terrible liar," Diego said with a soft chuckle. "You don't have to tell me where you are. Just be careful."

"Since when am I not careful?"

"Since you were a kid, jumping in front of bullets to save our dumbass brother."

"That was one time," Reagan reminded him.

"Haven't you heard? History always repeats itself, Reg."

She lifted a hand, rubbing the back of her neck as her train of thought shifted back to her other brother who was waiting for her return. Reagan meant what she said about helping him. She'd be there for him every step of the way, but what if she wasn't enough? Not telling their other siblings could be a mistake that they'd pay the ultimate sacrifice for.

"Diego?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to do something for me that might seem a little odd and I need you to not ask why," Reagan said.

Her brother hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Okay. What is it?"

"I need you to tell me everything's going to be okay, that we'll get through this and everything will be fine in the end." Reagan waited to see if he'd actually say it back to her and swallowed the lump in throat after a few seconds of silence had passed. "Diego?"

"Everything's going to be okay, Reg." He inhaled slowly. "We'll get through this and everything will be fine in the end."

She placed a hand over her chest, taking a few deep breaths as she let his words sink in. "Thank you, Diego."

"I'm not going to ask why you wanted me to say that, Reg. I just need you to know that I love you and I will always be a phone call away if you need me, okay?"

Reagan nodded as she leaned back against the wall, taking a calming breath. "I love you, too, Diego."

Ending the call, she slid her phone back into her pocket and opened the door. The sight of a group of armed assailants surrounding her brother stopped Reagan cold in her tracks as she stepped out of the bathroom. Five looked up at her the same time the armed men fixed their attention on her. Her brother used the distraction to jump behind the man standing beside him and stab him in the neck with a knife.

"Reagan!" Five shouted in warning, but she didn't need him to tell her that she was in danger.

Without a second look, she sprinted for the counter and launched herself over it. She landed gracelessly on the other side just as a spray of bullets hit the wall above her. Reagan got on her hands and knees and began crawling toward where the silverware was kept. She could hear her brother getting the gunmen's attention, which was followed by another wave of gunfire.

Grabbing one of the steak knives, she turned it over in her hand and stood from behind the counter. She cocked her arm and aimed her first knife at the man standing closest to her. Even though she aimed for his neck and ended up hitting him in the leg, she was just happy she hit him.

Reagan reminded herself to thank Diego for the knife throwing lessons he'd given her a few years back and jumped over the counter again. She landed on her feet this time, but quickly dropped low and kicked the same assailant's feet out from under him. Once he was on the floor next to her, she yanked the knife from his leg and stabbed it into his neck. Luckily, the rest of his friends were distracted by shooting aimlessly at the opposite wall to notice what she'd done.

When the gunfire died down, Reagan knew she'd be their next target, so she grabbed the knife out of the man's neck and slid under the closest table. She stayed there until the next person stepped in front of her. Focusing only on them, she brought the first image she could think of to the front of her mind: her bedroom at the Academy. She did the exercise her father had taught her and pushed the dream onto the attacker standing before her.

She knew it had worked when the man glanced around and lowered his gun to his side. "What the—"

Ignoring the continuous sound of gunfire going on beyond the dream, Reagan reached forward and jammed the knife into his ankle. She slid out from under the table when he doubled over, almost falling to the ground. Getting up on one knee, she pulled her elbow forward and jerked it back to hit his shin. The pain made him drop and Reagan shot to her feet, kneeing him in the face as she did. She grabbed the gun off the floor and fired a single, clean shot to the back of his head before tossing the weapon aside.

Reagan whirled around to see her brother trick the last two standing attackers into shooting each other by jumping out from between them at the last second. He appeared a moment later in the same spot he'd jumped from, earning a quiet sigh of relief from his sister.

She winced when she tried to wipe her hands on her pants. Turning them over, she couldn't see any wounds underneath the layer of blood already staining her palms. Reagan pulled them closer to her face, tilting them toward the light. It was only then that she could see the tiny pieces of glass embedded in her hands. At some point, she must have crawled over glass, but her adrenaline stopped from noticing before. She whirled around when the sound of a soft snap reached her ears. Five was standing over one of the attackers and she didn't have to see it to know he'd just broke the man's neck.

"Jesus Christ, Five."

He threw up his arms when he looked at her. "What? If any of them are left alive, they'll come after us."

Reagan gestured to the two men she'd just killed. "Yeah, I got that. I just wasn't expecting you to get that."

"Nice work," Five said as he jerked a thumb toward the bodies after surveying them.

His sister let out a harsh breath. "You're lucky I have a rule against slapping kids."

"Not a kid," Five reminded her, but held up a hand when she took a threatening step toward him. "But I am stuck in a kid's body."

"That's what I thought," Regan grumbled as they went back to the counter. She put a napkin in the cup of water that the stranger they'd been sitting with had left behind and used it to clean the blood off her hands.

"Shit."

She glanced over at her brother to see him rolling up a sleeve. "What?"

"I gotta get this tracker out of my arm."

Looking back at her hands, she began picking the shards of glass out of the shallow cuts. "How are you going to do that?"

"Like this," Five said, making her turn her head to look at him. She gasped when she saw him drag a knife up his arm and shove his fingers into the wound.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Getting the tracker out just like I said."

Reagan turned away. "Yeah, I kn—You know what? Forget I asked."

"Already forgotten," her brother said. "We have to leave now if we want to be gone by the time the cops get here."

"Here." Reagan leaned over and gestured to his arm. He gave it to her willingly and she wrapped a napkin over his open wound. She pulled his sleeve down to keep the makeshift bandage in place and stood from her seat. "Let's get out of here. Being convicted for murder isn't on my agenda for today."

They walked out to the car and Reagan agreed to let him drive again since she could barely close her hands let alone grab a steering wheel. She had the patience to wait until they were a few blocks from the donut shop to try asking her brother anything about the men who just tried to kill him.

"So…"

"Are you okay?"

Reagan cocked eyebrow. "What?"

"Are. You. Okay." Five glanced at her for a moment before returning his attention back to the road. "I know that was a lot to handle back there and you did kill two people."

"You killed more," Reagan reminded him.

He clenched the steering wheel tighter. "Yeah, but that was…"

"Your job," his sister said, pulling the words out of the air above his head. "Like I said before, it's really hard to keep things from me, Five."

"Yeah, I'm starting to remember that."

"How about I start, then?" Reagan offered, angling in her seat to face him. "Physically, other than a couple cuts on my hands I'm perfectly fine. Mentally, I'm solid. Emotionally, I'm pissed that I had to kill those guys when I've gone the last ten years without getting any blood on my hands, but I'm glad I did it because it helped us make it out of there alive."

Five nodded as he mulled over what she'd said. "Vanya was right. You becoming a psychologist really did make you more confrontational."

"She's damn right it did," Reagan said. She gestured toward him. "Now, it's your turn and don't leave anything out this time. I'll know if you do."

With a sigh, her brother squared his scrawny shoulders. "I guess I should start at the beginning…or, rather, the end."


	3. 3

3

_"Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away."_

The house was quiet enough that Reagan could hear Klaus' snores coming from the living room once she walked through the front door. She was glad that he was fast asleep, though. If he hadn't been, she most likely would have marched in there and unloaded everything she'd just learned from Five. It definitely would have been for naught, telling her most unstable sibling about the looming apocalypse, but she wanted to tell someone. Then maybe it would feel real instead of just another conjuring of her abilities.

"Where have you been?"

She pivoted on the heels of her boots to face Luther and lifted her shoulders in a half-shrug. "I went for a walk."

Technically, it wasn't a lie. When Five decided to stop by Vanya's apartment after their donut shop visit, Reagan opted to walk the rest of the way home. It gave her a chance to get her mind off what had happened in the last few hours.

Her brother quirked an eyebrow. "For four hours?"

"Three and a half," Reagan corrected, shifting her weight as she clasped her hands in front of her. The cuts on her palms were still fresh and she didn't need Luther questioning her about them.

Her brother stepped toward her before asking, "Are you okay?"

She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. "I'm fine, Spaceboy. I just need to get some sleep."

He caught her by her arm when she started to walk past him toward the stairs. She winced before she could stop herself, quickly remembering how hard she'd landed on her shoulder back at the donut shop when she jumped over the counter.

Luther let go of her arm. "What's wrong? Did I grab you too hard?"

Reagan shook her head, resisting the urge to touch the sore area. "No. I—I slipped when I was on my walk. My shoulder just caught the brunt of the fall."

"Oh, ok," Luther said, but the concern in his expression didn't fade. He jerked his thumb toward the stairs. "I was just going to ask you if you've talked to Diego. His stuff is gone."

"I talked to him earlier. He said he was going back home. He didn't say goodbye?"

"We're not exactly on the best terms right now."

Reagan laughed under her breath. "Well, he's probably still angry that you implied he might have killed dad."

"I didn't—"

She put a hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze. "I know, but this is Diego we're talking about. He likes to hold a grudge. Just give him a couple days."

"And what about you? Are you angry?" Luther asked.

"You had the most functional relationship with dad so it's understandable why you'd try to rationalize his death. You definitely didn't breach the topic the best way, but I'm not mad," Reagan said.

Luther rubbed his hands against his thighs as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "Just so you know, I never thought you could've done it, Reg."

"Really? What convinced you? Was it because you thought I wasn't capable of killing our dad? Or because I was over an hour away when it happened?" She continued quickly, only leaving her brother gaping at her for a moment. "That was a joke, Luther. I'm sure even if I was in town when he died, you still wouldn't think I did it."

"I wouldn't have," Luther said with a firm nod.

Reagan smiled as she gestured over her shoulder, slowly backing up to the stairs. "I'm gonna shower and try to get some sleep, but we can track down Diego tomorrow if you want."

Luther smiled back at her. "I'd appreciate that."

* * *

Reagan woke to someone shaking her arm. Letting out a quiet groan, she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes just enough to make out a dark shape standing over her. She pressed her fingers to her eyes, rubbing away the fatigue. When she opened them again she realized it was Five who had woken her.

"What time is it?"

He stepped away, his gaze drifting around to the small alarm clock on her nightstand. Five shrugged when he faced her again. "Early."

She propped herself up on her elbows and arched a brow. "How early?"

"Six."

"Jesus Christ," Reagan growled as she dropped back down on her bed and pulled the comforter over her head. "I need sleep to function, Five. I'm talking more than three hours here."

She let out a string of profanities when the blanket was yanked off her.

"We don't have that kind of time," her brother said.

Sitting up, she fixed her gaze on her brother in an unrelenting glare. "You're lucky I love you."

Five shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered toward her desk. "Yeah, that's exactly how I'd describe my life so far: lucky."

Ignoring her brother, Reagan stood from her bed and ran her fingers through her hair to tame any stray curls. "Please, tell me there's a good reason you woke me up this early."

Her brother stood up a little straighter as he peered over at her. "I need you to do something for me."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that much," Reagan retorted. "What exactly do you need me to do?"

"Be my mom," Five said, his lips spreading into a wide smile. "Please?"

* * *

"That's his current address," Reagan said, pointing to the paper she'd just handed Luther. "He might not be there, but he's usually okay with me waiting until he gets back."

"But that's you," Luther reminded her. "You could probably trash his room and he'd say thank you."

Reagan rolled her eyes at her brother's joke.

"He's not going to stab you, if that's what you're worried about. At least not on accident." She continued before Luther could get a word in. "If I finish this errand early, I'll meet you there, okay?"

Folding the paper in his hands, Luther put it in his pocket and bobbed his head. "Where are you going, anyways?"

"It's not important," Reagan said, leaning back against his door. "What is important is that you remember I said."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "I know how to apologize, Reg."

She smirked before turning to leave, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Of course you do, Spaceboy."

Reagan only got to the top of the stairs before Klaus cut her off. Frustration crinkled her eyes as she put a hand on her hip. "What do you want?"

Klaus' body stiffened at the question. His shoulders slumped as his nose wrinkled. "Why is it that every time I talk to you, you think I want something?"

"Because I know you," Reagan said, arching a sly brow.

With a huff, he squinted at her. "Fine, Reg, you caught me again. I need money."

His sister snorted at the thought. "For drugs?"

"No," Klaus said.

"Yes."

Reagan glanced over her shoulder when she recognized the voice coming from behind her. Leaning against one of the wooden railings was Ben. His gaze stayed locked on the book in his hand moment longer, but he smiled when he peered up at Reagan. She returned it before looking back at Klaus.

"In case you forgot, it's almost impossible to hide things from me," Reagan said. She jerked her head toward her Ben. "Even without his help."

"Traitor," Klaus said, glancing at where Ben was standing.

"Listen, Klaus, I get why you do the things you do, but I'm not going to personally fund your drug habit," Reagan explained.

"Yes, you are."

Whirling around, Reagan wasn't surprised to find that Five had joined them. Her jaw clenched with contempt. "What are you talking about?"

She could read his answer in the air around him before it formed on his lips, but she needed to hear him say it this time.

"We're going to bribe him to do something for us," Five said. "Or rather you are since I'm currently thirteen years old and completely broke."

Reagan's eyes rolled skyward as she expelled a slow breath. Looking back at her brother, she pressed her lips into a taught line. "You can't be serious. You know what he's going to use that money for."

Five shrugged. "We have more important things to worry about than our brother slowly killing himself."

"Woah, woah, woah," Klaus said, stepping up beside Reagan. "I thought this was headed in a positive direction until you started talking about death."

"Klaus…" his sister warned as she shot him a look. He raised his hands weakly, feigning surrender and fell back a step. Reagan folded her arms over her chest as she directed her attention to Five again. "What do you want him to do exactly?"

"Be my dad."

"I thought I was—"

"You are and so is he," Five said, pointing to their brother. "We stand a better chance of getting the information I need if we go in there looking like the average American family."

Reagan's brow furrowed in confusion as she gestured between her and Klaus. "And you think we'd look like the average American family?"

"It's better than nothing."

"You're serious," Reagan realized aloud.

"As the plague," Five murmured before he turned his gaze on Klaus. "Come on. We need to make you… presentable."

"Ah, ah, ah," Klaus said, waving a finger at him. "First, we need to discuss my price."

Reagan lifted her arm to elbow him. She jerked her head toward Five when he looked at her. "Just go, Klaus. I'll make sure you have enough money."

She folded her arms over her chest as she watched her brothers head to the back of the house where their bedrooms were.

"This isn't a good idea," Ben said as he appeared in the spot beside her.

"I know," she agreed with a sigh. "But Five's right. We have bigger things to worry about than Klaus' sobriety."

"What does that—"

Reagan turned her head when Ben's sentence got cut off only to see that he'd disappeared, which meant Klaus was far enough to break her connection to his consciousness. She let out a heavy breath as she ran her hands over her face, raking her fingers through her hair. Rolling her head back on her shoulders, she stared at the ceiling for an elongated moment.

"You lucky bastard," Reagan mumbled, hoping her father could hear every thought running through her head.

* * *

Klaus shot up from the steps outside of Meritech Prosthetics the moment Five finished going over his plan. He clapped his hands and gestured to the tall building behind them, his lips curled into a devious grin. "Great. Let's get to it so I can get paid."

Reagan put her hands on her hips as she turned to Five. "Tell me again why you thought bringing him was a good idea."

"I haven't decided it was yet," Five said. He walked up the steps to follow Klaus into the building, but turned when he reached the door, pulling it open and gesturing inside. "But I'm sure we're about to find out."

She relented with a toss of her eyes and entered the building with her brothers. Once they stepped out of the elevator onto the right floor, Klaus grabbed Reagan's hand. He tightened his grip when she tried to pull it away.

"Can't we put our differences aside for now, Reagan?" Klaus stared at her with wide eyes as he tilted his head in Five's direction and jutted out his lower lip in a pout. "For the child…"

Reagan scoffed quietly, but didn't try to pull her hand away again. It wasn't the hand-holding that was bothering her anyways. Knowing that at the end of their little errand, she'd have to pay Klaus for his help was. It was one thing to tolerate her brother's addiction, but funding it, even one time, was something that Reagan swore she'd never do. Now, she was breaking that promise and she couldn't find a way to convince herself that it would be worth it in the end.

Refocusing on their mission, she was relieved to discover how easy it was to get into Mr. Biggs' office. All it took was a simple apology for their "son's" behavior and a small bribe, which of course came from her wallet. Reagan opted to stay by the door while Klaus and Five took the chairs in front of the desk. Folding her arms over her chest, she relaxed against the table behind her. She focused on the man sitting behind the desk to see where his head was at as Five and Klaus tried to convince him to reveal who owned the eye.

He seemed to lose patience after a few minutes. Clasping his hands over his stomach, he looked between from Klaus to Reagan. "Like I said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you."

"Well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name," Five said, hunching his shoulders to brace his hands against the desk. Mr. Biggs gave a careless shrug.

"Well, that's not my problem. Sorry." Motioning to the door, he continued, "Now, there's really nothing more I can do so—"

"And what about my consent?" Klaus asked, shifting in his seat. Reagan's eyes narrowed as she sorted through the thoughts appearing above his head.

"Excuse me?" The man asked, the wrinkles by his eyes expressing his confusion.

"Who gave you permission…" Klaus voice dropped to a whimper "…to lay your hands on my son?"

"Oh, my God," Reagan murmured under her breath when she caught a glimpse of what Klaus was planning to do next.

"I didn't touch your son."

"Oh, really?" Klaus uncrossed his legs to lean forward. "Well, then how did he get that swollen lip?"

Reagan drew in a long breath, letting it out in a huff when Klaus stood from his seat and angled his body toward five. Like most people, her brother had thought ahead, alerting her to every move he was about to make.

Mr. Biggs glanced at the three siblings. "He doesn't have a swollen—"

At that moment, Klaus cocked his arm and punched Five across the face. Reagan flinched at the sound of the impact. She pushed herself away from the desk and went to Five's side as he recovered from the sucker punch. She placed a hand under his chin, angling his face toward the light to get a better look at his bloody lip. After giving him a tiny shake of her head to tell him it didn't look too bad, she faced Mr. Biggs.

"I want it. Name, please," Klaus said as he propped himself up against the desk. "Now."

"Are you going to let him do that to your son?" The man asked, sliding his gaze to Reagan.

She slung an arm over Five's shoulders, a smile dangling on the corner of her lips. "I trust my husband to do what's best for our family."

"You're crazy."

"You got no idea." Klaus drummed his fingers against the desk, bowing his head to look at the snow globe sitting there.

A lump formed in Reagan's throat when she noticed the new ideas that were running through her brother's mind. Klaus could always be a bit reckless, but if he went through with what she was seeing, it would be a new low… or high. He picked up the globe and turned it over in his hand to read the print on the front just as she refocused her attention on what he was saying.

"'Peace on earth.' That's so sweet," Klaus sighed a moment before jerking the globe toward his face. Reagan's hand shot out at the last second and caught him by the wrists. She kept her hand there, but turned to look back at Mr. Biggs.

She cleared her throat. "Mr. Biggs, my husband is about 5 seconds from smashing that globe over his head to support the fact that you beat the shit out of him and my son, which I will gladly testify to."

The older man gaped at her for a moment, his jaw opening and closing as he struggled to find words. "They—they'd never believe you."

Reagan lifted her chin confidently, placing a hand on her hip. "Well, the blood would be enough to convince anyone. Throw in three eyewitness testimonies, you'd be on the way to the city prison by the end of the day. But honestly, it wouldn't matter if they did."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure you can tell that my husband's _slightly_ unhinged, but I'm not. I'm completely sane…" Reagan paused to hold up her free hand, tightening it into a fist. When she uncurled her fingers a moment later, she focused on projecting a dream into the space between her fingertips. The dark cloud that formed there came to life with black and red bolts of lighting, looking as threatening as an illusion could. She smirked when she met Mr. Biggs' gaze and lowered her voice, "…and very powerful. So, believe me when I say that I have no problem killing every person in this office until I find someone who will give us the information we're looking for. The only decision you have to make right now is if that search begins or ends with you."

Without dropping her smile, she lowered her hands to her sides and cocked her head. "So, what will it be, Mr. Biggs?"

He watched her for a few seconds, his eyes shifted over the three of them as he debated his options. Reagan wasn't surprised when he eventually nodded. He got a key from the drawer in his desk and stood slowly, shaking his head when his gaze met Reagan's. "You people need serious help."

Her smile widened. "And then some."

* * *

By the time Reagan got to the gym, she was in dire need of some coffee. Running on three hours of sleep was turning out to be harder than she expected, but her planned nap had dropped to the bottom of her to-do list after getting a phone call from Luther. She left Five and Klaus at the Meritech building to meet him at Diego's place before their brother got home, but not before slipping Five twenty dollars. Even if it came from her pocket, she was hoping it would make her feel a little better that he was going to be giving Klaus the money. Unfortunately, the guilt turning in her gut was unaffected by the idea.

Reagan raised her hand in a greeting when she walked into the gym and spotted Mr. Carpenter in the ring. Having visited her brother there a few times, she knew where to go after he told her that the "big boy" was waiting in Diego's room. She unwrapped the scarf from her neck as she walked into the back of the building and shoved it into her bag along with her gloves. The cuts and scrapes on her hands were healing slowly, but the redness and swelling had gone down since that morning so she didn't worry about her brothers spotting them. She stopped in front of the door to Diego's room and squeezed her hand into a fist to knock.

"Reg."

She wet her lips and set them into a thin line before turning her head to look at Diego, who was standing at the end of the hall. "Hey. Where you been all day?"

"Out…" He said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. She rolled her eyes, knowing he purposely used the same response she had the night before. "I had things to do."

Facing him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Did any of these things happen to take place in a jail cell?"

Diego bowed his head as he pulled a knife from the holster on his leg. "Maybe."

"Well, next time say hi to Patch for me," Reagan said, dropping her arms to her sides. Diego walked over to her and gestured toward the door of his room with his knife.

"Luther?"

"Yeah, he said he—" Reagan stopped short when her brother put a finger to his lips and angled his body against the door. She lowered her voice to a whisper as he grabbed the doorknob. "He said he wanted to apologize."

Diego opened the door a crack. His sister exhaled slowly when he raised his throwing arm, a blade resting between his fingers.

"Diego…" she murmured, but only received a cocky wink from her brother in response.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent the knife spinning into the room. Reagan pursed her lips disapprovingly as she pushed past him and walked inside.

"Ow! What the—" Luther exclaimed from where he was sitting on the other side of the room. Reagan offered him a sympathetic smile when he looked up at them.

"I could smell it was you," Diego said, strolling into the room behind Reagan. She walked down the stairs to join her other brother by the desk.

"What the hell?" Luther asked as he pulled the knife out of the dresser beside him. "You could have killed me!"

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead," Diego assured. Reagan couldn't help but agree with the notion. Her brother rarely missed once he decided on a target.

Reluctantly, Luther handed their brother his knife when he put out his hand for it. Reagan leaned back against the desk and pushing herself up so she was sitting on top. She waved her hand toward Diego when she noticed Luther looking to her for help.

"Apologize," she mouthed. Her brother's jaw tightened as he looked back at Dieog, who was taking off his holster to hang it up on the column by the stairs.

"It's a nice place," Luther said, earning an incredulous look from his sister.

Diego smirked over his shoulder. "I like it."

"Me too," Reagan said as she crossed her legs and pushed her hair over her shoulder. "It's cozy. Patch must've liked that."

"Who's Patch?" Luther asked at the same time that Diego shot a quieting glare at her.

Reagan bit her lip. "No one important."

She quirked an eyebrow when she noticed something in Luther's hand. She angled her head in his direction. "What's that?"

He unfolded the paper to reveal the promotion poster for one of Diego's boxing matches. It only took a moment for her to catch what day it had happened. "Diego was fighting the night that dad died."

Reagan expelled a slow breath as she slid off the desk and grabbed the paper from Luther's hand. She gave a disappointed shake of her head and looked up at her brother. "Did you really need this to know that Diego didn't do it?"

"I only thought—"

"I know what you think, Luther," Reagan reminded him, the anger seeping into her tone. Her eyes narrowed as she forced herself to ignore the words and images appearing around her. "I see everything. _That_ is my curse. Just answer the question."

After a moment of silence passed over the room, Luther swallowed hard. "Yeah, I did."

"And now that you know he didn't do it is there something you want to say to him?"

Sighing quietly, he looked to where their brother was standing. "I'm sorry, Diego."

"You know the way out, right?" He responded as he walked up beside Reagan. Luther's eyes settled on her and she could see what he wanted her to say, but she couldn't give it to him yet.

"Yeah, I know the way," Luther said and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

"You knew, didn't you?" Diego asked. Feeling his gaze on her, she nodded.

"I'm sorry. It was the only way to get him off your back." Reagan handed him the poster and grabbed her bag off the desk. "A part of me wanted to think he'd change his mind…"

"But you knew better," Diego finished for her.

She slung her purse over her shoulder and ambled backwards to the stairs. "Haven't you heard? I know everything. Even things I never wanted to."

Diego seemed to catch her not-so-subtle hint, his brows knitting into a frown. "You okay, Reg?"

Reagan held his gaze for a moment as she debated telling him the truth, or at least a part of it. Only, once she started, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop. So, instead she buried the truth under a forced smile. "I'm fine, Diego. Just tired, is all."

"I might not be able to read minds, but I can tell when you're lying, Reagan," Diego said as he inched closer to her. "And I would be angry at you for it, but I know you've only lied to me when you had to. I'm trust that this is one of those times."

"It is," Reagan murmured, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Well, like I said before, I'm always one phone call away," Diego said. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Without a second thought, Reagan stepped forward and threw her arms around her brother, hugging him tight as her eyes burned with the threat of tears. It took a moment for him to slide his hands around her back, having been thrown off guard by his sister's unexpected hug. Clenching her jaw, Reagan reminded that it wasn't over. Her brother was there, in her arms, alive. They still had seven days to save the world and her siblings. Hopefully, seven days was enough time change their fate.

Reagan bit back a sob that built in her throat and pulled away from her brother. She turned and stepped toward the stairs, quickly wiping the tears that were on the verge of spilling onto her cheeks before Diego could spot them. It was only when she reached the top of the stairs, and she was sure that any sign of her tears were gone, that she looked at her brother again.

"I'll call you later, Diego," she said and offered him a fleeting wave before leaving him alone in his room.

It was only once she was alone in her car that she allowed herself to break down.

* * *

Walking into her room, Reagan flipped on the light switch and turned to throw her stuff on her bed. She jumped when she realized her room wasn't empty like she'd expected. Five was lying on her bed, his arms wrapped securely around the upper half of a mannequin. Her brother's soft snores told her that he was fast asleep and had been for a while.

She put her stuff down on the chair by her desk and shuffled closer to Five. Keeping as much distance between them as she could, she reached down and shook him awake. The last thing she needed was him accidentally shooting her with some assassin's gun he kept hidden under his mannequin. Luckily, he proved to be a light sleeper. His eyes fluttered open after her first attempt to wake him and she kept a careful eye on him as he sat up slowly.

"What are you doing in my room?" She asked once he seemed to catch his bearings.

He blinked owlishly at her. "I needed—I needed to…"

"… talk to me," Reagan finished, pulling the rest of his sentence out of the air. He bobbed his head to confirm her statement and sat up a little straighter.

"You're not going to ask about it?" He queried when he noticed her staring at the bloody stains on his collar and neck. What he couldn't see was how they were no longer in her room. For Reagan, they were in a dark department store. The rapid gunfire echoing in her mind was difficult to ignore, but she forced herself to refocus her attention on Five.

Reagan huffed a breath and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't need to, Five. The second you started thinking about the shootout or anything for that matter, I see the memories and mental images that were engrained in your mind when it happened. Even if it's fragmented, I can usually piece it together. This time's no different. So, we don't _need_ to talk about it, but we can if you want to get something off your chest."

Five's kept eye contact with her, but his gaze became glazed as his thoughts ventured elsewhere. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Reagan asked even though she knew the answer. After years of dealing with her powers, she'd learned that always predicting what people were going to say or do had a tendency to rub them the wrong way. So, she'd taught herself to pick and choose when to guide the conversation and when to take a backseat. Knowing Five, this time it was better to let him keep control. Or at least let him think he was.

"That Mr. Biggs would believe your dream was real and give us the information we needed," Five said.

"He was already terrified by the idea of being charged with two assaults so I knew it wouldn't take much to convince him," Reagan explained. "You know that saying 'seeing is believing?'"

"Yeah…"

"Well, most people live their life by it. They believe what they see." Reagan mimicked the motions she went through in the Meritech office to make the cloud dream appear in front of her hand. This time she lifted her other hand and dragged a finger through the illusion a couple times, causing it to dissipate. Looking at her brother, she quirked her head to the side. "Even if what they're seeing isn't real. I guess it's just a part of human nature."

"That must be hard," Five said, his eyes meeting hers.

"What?"

"Convincing yourself every day that most of the things you see aren't real."

Reagan pursed her lips as she thought back to all the days that she'd struggled with that exact task. It got easier as she grew up, but there were still times when the lines between her reality and other people's thoughts blurred. Those were the days that it took everything in her not to follow in Klaus' shoes and do whatever it took to numb her powers.

"It is," Reagan admitted. "But I do it because I have to. The alternative isn't an option."

"What alternative is that?" Her brother asked as he placed his hands on the bed behind him and leaned back.

"Giving up, of course." Reagan's lips curled into a smile as she sat down beside Five. "It's not who we are. Us Hargreeves were built to last."

"I hope to hell you're right," Five said, rolling his head back on his shoulders to look at ceiling.

"I am," Reagan said without a hint of doubt. She'd let herself feel it, but showing it to her brother was another impossible option. He needed to believe that everything they were doing would be worth it. That they could live up to The Umbrella Academy's legacy and save the world. "You'll see, Five, and then you'll believe it, too."


	4. 4

4

_"The real world is where the monsters are."_

Reagan walked down the street towards the inconspicuous van that was parked across from Meritech Prosthetics. Upon reaching it, she sharply rapped her knuckles against the window and her brother leaned over to unlock the door for her. "I'm pretty sure this is the most mundane thing I've seen you do since you got back," she said as she hoisted herself into the passenger's side seat, pulling the door shut behind her.

"And the most boring," Five grumbled without taking his eyes off the building.

His sister smirked to herself as she put the take-out cup carrier on the floor. She grabbed two of the four coffees, handing one to Five. "You remind me of Diego when you do that."

"What?"

"Brood," Reagan replied, adding, "Maybe you did learn something from us after all." She let out a sigh when her gaze caught the several bottles of alcohol half-hidden in the duffel bag between their seats. Picking one up, she turned the vodka over in her hand to read the label. "Make that two things: suppressing emotions and unhealthy coping mechanisms."

"You're not going to lecture me?" Five asked.

"I would if I thought you'd actually listen to me." She gingerly placed the bottle back in the bag which she found also contained half a mannequin; Five called it Dolores and had apparently grown quite fond of it. "It would make me feel better if you mixed some in with your coffee, though. You know, to water down the alcohol with the caffeine."

Five ignored her measly attempt at a joke, but did as she asked. He swirled his coffee cup in slow circles to mix the two drinks together and turned his attention back to the Meritech building. "You know, I spent a lot of time during the apocalypse trying to piece together your guys' future—my past. Even after reading all your books I could never figure out how you managed to get out of that house in one piece."

"Who said that I did?" Reagan muttered, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She propped her elbow up against the window and rested her chin on her hand. "I don't think any of us did. We all lost a part of ourselves in that house. Maybe letting it go is the key to leaving all that shit behind."

"What about Luther?"

"He never wanted to let go, so he stayed longer than any of us. Even when he was on the moon, his heart and soul were locked in that house. They still are."

"Do you think he'll ever leave?" Five questioned, sliding a glance in his sister's direction.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Reagan said, "I hope so, but that will have to be something he decides on his own otherwise he'll always end up going back."

"You think I would've made it out if I hadn't gotten stuck in the future?"

She let out a breathless laugh, turning her head toward her brother. "Oh, without a doubt. You were always too stubborn to stay."

* * *

"Where are you?"

"I had to run an errand with Five," Reagan said as she craned her neck to look back at the van where he was lounging.

"You two have been spending a lot of time together the past couple days," Allison noted. "I never thought you were that close."

"We weren't, really, but a lot of things can change in 17 to 45 years."

Her sister sighed over the phone. "Well, I'm glad he's talking to you at least. He's basically been avoiding the rest of us."

"He's still catching his bearings, Al. Just give him time," Reagan reassured her.

She raked a hand through her hair as she kicked at the gravel beneath her feet out of frustration, sending a few rocks skidding down the sidewalk. For some reason, Five still believed it was for the best that their brothers and sisters remained oblivious about the apocalypse. Even if it did end up being the right decision, it didn't make it any easier for Reagan to continuously lie to their siblings.

"You really believe that's all it is?" Allison asked, her voice dropping to a murmur.

"Even if it isn't, it doesn't change the fact that he's our brother. You don't give up on the people you love just because they're being a stubborn asshole." Reagan paused as she watched Five take another drink of his coffee-vodka combo. "He's not going to be able to shake us that easily."

"Neither are you, you know."

Reagan's brow crinkled. "You're kidding, right? I fly across the country once a month to visit you."

"Yeah, but whenever you do we always end up just talking about me or Claire or our asshole brothers," Allison said. "It's like you use your empathy as a shield to stop us from digging into your life."

"That's not true," Reagan protested as she began to fidget with the hem of her jacket. "My life's an open book."

"If that's the case, why didn't you ever tell us about what dad made you do?"

A chill ran up her spine causing her to shudder. Reagan knew exactly what her sister was referring to. The problem was that Allison wasn't supposed to know about it and there was only one person who could've told her.

Clenching her jaw, she expelled a calming breath. "I have to go, Allison."

"Reagan, I don't—"

She ended the call before her sister could finish and slammed the payphone back onto the cradle. Reagan wasn't sure what excuse she would give Five, but she needed to take a break from their surveillance mission to hunt down Klaus.

* * *

_15 years ago_…

"Focus, Number Zero."

Reagan exhaled slowly and looked to her father. "I'm trying."

"If you haven't been able to do it yet, then you're obviously not trying hard enough," Reginald dictated without breaking his focus on the notebook he was constantly scribbling in.

Knowing it was pointless to try arguing with him, Reagan shut her eyes again. The sooner she was able to give her father what he wanted, the sooner he'd let her leave. She hated that he chose to cut into her free time to do the practice sessions, but she hated who he'd chosen as the test subjects even more.

All her life her father had told her that her abilities were a tool, an instrument that could be used to ensure not only her success, but the success of their family. Reagan never imagined he'd have her use her powers on her siblings. And yet, there she was, sneaking into their thoughts and dreams for her father's benefit. She knew it was wrong, but after years of coming up with ways to avoid telling him what she was truly seeing in her sibling's minds, she'd run out of options. The heart rate monitor, blood pressure cuff, and brain scanner she was hooked up to made sure of it.

"There you go," her father murmured quietly. His voice snapped her out her trance and she opened her eyes to find herself in the midst of a blur of thoughts and memories.

The moment she finished relaying what she was saw to her father, she ripped the electrodes off her temples and chest, dropping them on the table. Glaring at her dad, she cocked an eyebrow. "Can I be excused now?"

"You may, Number Zero," he said, his attention still glued on his notebook.

Reagan bit back a scoff as she turned to leave. What she wouldn't give to have a look in that damn notebook.

* * *

_Present day_…

The house was the first place she thought to check. Reagan had seen Klaus draped across the couch in the living room before she left to meet up with Five. Even though he was no longer there, she knew he couldn't have gone far. As a broke addict who couldn't drive, he didn't have many other options.

Reagan made her way to the second floor, pausing by each room to make sure her brother wasn't passed out in one of them. She stopped when she got to Diego's and found him stretched out on his bed. Venturing into the room, she gently knocked on the door to draw his attention.

"What are you doing here?" He inquired. "I thought you'd be with Five."

"Why is everyone so concerned with my whereabouts all the time?" Reagan asked as she defensively folded her arms over her chest. "I can barely go an hour without someone asking where I am or who I'm with."

Diego sat up, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Because we can see that something's wrong, Reg. You're not as good of a liar as you think you are."

"I'm better at it than you," she retorted with a crinkle of her nose.

His lips formed a coy smirk. "That may be true, but you've been running around nonstop for the past three days, barely taking any time to rest. We've seen you do this before, and I'm sure you remember how well that ended the last time."

"That was different, Diego," Reagan told him. "I was a kid then. I'm older now. Stronger. I can handle it."

He came to a stand and shuffled closer to her, his expression softening. The smirk he was wearing was replaced by a sympathetic smile. "I'm not saying you can't. You might be the strongest one in this house, but even superheroes have breaking points. If you're not careful, you'll reach yours sooner rather than later."

Reagan's brows knitted together in a suspicious scowl. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Diego rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"Don't get me wrong, seeing your sweet side is refreshing, though at the same time slightly unnerving. But it's completely beside the point. I didn't come here to talk about me, I just wanted to see if you know where Klaus is."

"Uh, I think he just left with Luther," Diego said, nodding towards the hallway.

"Do you know where they went?"

"Luther wanted to call a family meeting, so I'm guessing they went to find you and Five."

"Of course they did," Reagan huffed. She turned to leave, but paused when she glanced at her brother's holster. She bit into her lip as she pointed at a knife. "Can I borrow one of those?"

"Why?" Diego glanced down at the sharpened blade strapped to his chest. He kept a careful eye on her as he pulled the weapon out and twirled it between his fingers.

She shrugged weakly. "Reasons…"

He began backing away from her, going further into his room. "If you're not gonna tell me…" He started to slide the knife back into his holster.

"Well, I didn't think you'd give it to me if I told you I wanted to use it to maim our brother," Reagan admitted.

Diego stopped short at the foot of his bed, his eyes narrowing. "Why wouldn't I let—"

Shaking her head, she clarified, "Klaus, not Luther."

"What did he do now?" Diego flopped back onto his mattress and clasped his hands behind his head.

"Something stupid," Reagan said.

"Obviously." He paused to push himself up on his elbows. "Got any more details you want to share?"

"He broke a promise, proving once again that relying on an addict for anything is a bad idea."

"If you knew that, why'd you trust him to keep the promise in the first place?"

Reagan shifted her weight as she chewed on her lip. The more she talked around her secret, the higher the chances that she would slip up. It was inevitable that it would get out eventually, but she wanted it to be on her own terms.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she squared her shoulders. "Because I was 16 when I made him do it and I was too young to understand what he was becoming."

After watching her for a moment, her brother sighed. "Well, you were right. I'm not going to give you a knife so that you can maim Klaus, but I will go with you to find him if you want."

"That's okay," Reagan said. "I know where they're going and on the off chance things get out of hand, Luther will be there to stop me from garroting our brother with my scarf."

Diego chuckled softly. "I don't think I've seen you this angry since Klaus tricked Luther into throwing your bed out the window."

Reagan cocked her head as she backed out of the room. "Klaus will be lucky if he only gets out of this one with a smack over the head."

* * *

"You just missed them by a few minutes," Five said once Reagan was seated beside him in the van again. He peered at her from the corner of his eye when she released an exasperated sigh. Her brother lifted his coffee toward her, holding it in the air until she took the cup from his hand. Tipping it against her lips, she sipped the coffee-vodka mixer steadily until it was gone.

"What did they want?"

"Luther was trying to get me to come back to the house to vote on whether or not we should turn off mom."

Reagan turned in her seat. "Wait, what? Why the hell would they do that?"

"Number One thinks she had something to do with dad's death," Five explained with a careless shrug of his shoulders.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Reagan scoffed, "and I've heard Luther say a lot of stupid shit."

"I don't doubt that."

Leaning against the door, she looked at her brother. "Are you going?"

"I think finding a way to stop the apocalypse is a pretty good excuse to skip this family meeting," Five responded with a shake of his head.

"True, but what if we don't go and they end up shutting her off?"

Five pursed his lips as he met Reagan's gaze. "Honestly, Reg, I don't really care that much about it. At least, not as much as I do about the end of the world, but you can go if you want. I can handle a couple hours of light stalking by myself."

"You sure?" She asked, arching a brow.

"I survived the apocalypse all on my own," Five said. "I got this."

Reagan watched him for a moment longer before opening the door to step out of the van. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and then jerked her thumb over her shoulder to gesture towards the payphone across the alley.

"I call, you answer, no exceptions," Reagan instructed. She continued before he could argue. "I know you survived the apocalypse all on your own and just killed six guys last night,. Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that you're stuck in the body of a thirteen year old, which technically makes me your older sister now. There's no one else watching your back, so you've at least got to let me try."

Five gave a firm nod of his head. "Okay."

"Really?" Reagan questioned, quirking her head to the side. When he nodded again, she let out an amused hum. "I thought you'd fight me harder on it."

"I've basically been alone for the last 45 years. If I got hurt or even died while I was gone, there wouldn't have been anyone there to care. It's kind of nice knowing there's someone out there worrying about me now."

Reagan rolled her lips into her mouth, actively fighting the urge to spill every sentimental thought running through her head. Keeping those kinds of things to herself was always the default when it came to her family. Even though 17 years had passed since Five disappeared, that was one of the things that never changed.

Instead of purging her emotions to her brother, Reagan opened the door to get out of the van. "Well, I'll be back in an hour, two tops. Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime." She lingered on the sidewalk and leaned back into the van, lowering her voice as she offered a small smile. "Just so you know, Five, I never stopped worrying about you. It didn't matter how long you were gone."

Reagan closed the door a second later, but she could've sworn she saw Five's mouth twitch with a hint of a smile.

* * *

It was getting dark by the time that Reagan arrived back at the Academy. She slipped in through the front door quietly and checked the first floor of the house for any sign of her siblings or their mom. Since she'd been so busy trying help Five, she hadn't been around enough to see if there was truly anything wrong with Grace. Luther could be overdramatic to say the least and she hoped that this was only another misconception on his part. Their father's death wasn't that big of a tragedy if Reagan was being honest. At the end of the day, aside from Pogo, Grace was the only parental figure she ever knew. Shutting her off would be a true loss.

Taking two steps at a time, Reagan ascended the grand staircase to the second floor. She was still hoping to get a minute alone with Klaus before she faced Allison. It was difficult to blame someone who had fried their brain to the point that they could barely remember what they ate for breakfast, let alone that they promised to keep a secret, but she was determined to find a way.

Reagan slowed to a stop when she noticed Diego sitting against the wall outside his room. He was repeatedly flicking daggers into the wooden floor in front of him, only pulling them out to throw them back down a second later. He didn't acknowledge her presence until she slid down the wall to sit beside him.

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"I heard what was going on with mom," Reagan said as she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. "I wanted to be here."

Diego breathed out steadily before whipping another knife into the floor. "You missed the vote."

She tilted her head to look at him. "Is she okay? Mom?"

"For now," Diego answered. He pulled out the two knives that were lodged into the wooden floor. He leaned closer to Reagan, whispering, "Luther's an idiot, but I think he was right about something being wrong with her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's too…distant. It's like she's having trouble piecing things together."

Reagan linked an arm through her brother's, resting her head on his shoulder. "But you voted no on shutting her down."

"I had to, Reg," Diego muttered. "Fighting for her is the least we can do after everything she's done for us."

"I understand why you did it. I'm just wondering if it's the best choice for mom," she pondered aloud.

Her brother pulled back an inch to peer down at her. "What the hell are you saying?"

"Diego, you have to be realistic. I know mom always seemed and acted real, but when it comes down to it, she's a program at her core. All programs can malfunction or get infected."

"So, what? You just want to kill her and forget about her? Forget about everything she's done for us?"

Reagan's gaze fixed into a glare. "Those words never came out of my mouth so why are you hearing them?"

"Then what are you saying?"

"If there is something wrong with her programing or she's malfunctioning in some way, then maybe all we have to do is get someone to fix her. Dad might have acted like he was God's gift to mankind, but he's not the only genius to ever exist and I bet that we could find another one to help mom."

Diego's eyes narrowed as he stared back at her. "You'd do that?"

"I've always got your back, Diego. If you want to fight for her then I'll be right there beside you," Reagan said.

"Are you doing this for me or because you actually think it's the right thing to do?"

She sagged wearily against the wall. "I'm going to do whatever I can to keep mom with us. Does it really matter why I'm doing it?"

* * *

Reagan's head dipped and she jerked awake. She braced her hands against what she expected to be the hardwood floor only to find herself on something soft instead. Diego's bed, to be exact. It took her a moment, but she remembered them moving into his room after their conversation. Except now Diego was nowhere to be seen.

She looked out the window since she had no other way of telling how long she'd been asleep. It was completely dark out which meant it had been at least an hour. Sliding off Diego's bed, she yawned and rubbed the fatigue from her eyes. Even if it hadn't been that long since she fell asleep, she still had to get back to Five as soon as she could. She knew all too well how much things could change in an hour.

Reagan lifted a hand to the doorknob, but the sudden eruption of gunfire stopped her cold. Her mind instantly cleared as she dropped to the floor and slipped behind Diego's dresser. The impact of the bullets outside the bedroom made seem it as if the shooters were closing in. Reagan was almost certain they didn't know she was in there, though. If they did, there would be nothing stopping them from knocking down the door and killing her in seconds. A part of her wanted to leave the safety of Diego's bedroom to help whoever was being shot at, but walking right into the line fire was an even worse idea.

A few moments later, there was an unexpected lull in gunfire only broken by the sound of two distinct and unfamiliar voices.

"Cha-cha, shoot him!"

"Move out of the way, dumbass!"

"Cha-cha?" Reagan mouthed as she tried to remember where she'd heard the name. Before she could put her finger on it, another wave of gunfire came from the hallway.

When the house fell silent again, Reagan heard loud footsteps slowly fade away, signaling that the shooters had moved on. She cautiously rose up from her hiding spot and tiptoed towards the door, removing her stiff jacket.

The door creaked on its hinges as she pulled it open to poke her head out and found that the hallway was empty. The walls were freshly decorated with a generous spray of bullet holes which meant that whoever these people were, they came into the Academy intending to cause serious damage. Reagan zeroed in on the other end of the hall when the gunfire continued in the distance. This time, she didn't hesitate to follow the noise to the second floor balcony, which overlooked the living room. It was there she spotted Diego cowering behind one of the couches.

She ducked low when she saw two people join her brother below. It wasn't a jump to assume they were the ones leading this attack on her family. The main question left lingering in the back of her mind was why?

Reagan dropped to a knee as the assailants lifted their weapons and began firing aimlessly at the corner of the room where Diego was hiding. She raised her arms from her sides and focused on creating a dream that would let her brother escape their line of fire. She learned at a pretty young age how to use her powers as a weapon, much like Allison with her rumor abilities. No matter how smart their enemies were, they always struggled to discern Reagan's dreams from reality.

The scene below began to shift as she crafted an illusion from memory. She gave them a moving target in the form of a Diego-shaped shadow sprinting for the other side of the room. Much like Reagan expected, the shooters turned their weapons on the dream. Looking to her brother, she motioned toward the door behind him, hoping he'd use the window of opportunity she created to get to safety.

"Diego, move!" Reagan shouted when he hesitated, but she instantly regretted it when her voice drew the shooters attention back to him.

She instinctively created a wall between Diego and their attackers. The dream wouldn't do much to protect him from the very real bullets, but it would be harder for the shooters to hit what they couldn't see. She was so focused on maintaining her illusion that she didn't notice one of the masked assailants turning their gun on her until it was too late.

Reagan screamed when a searing pain shot through her neck. Her dream faded from the living room as she fell back and clamped a hand over the burning wound. She propped herself up against the wall, ignoring the hot sticky liquid pooling between her fingers. Judging solely by the pain, the bullet just grazed her. That much she could handle. She'd been hurt much worse before. The only thing that was troubling her was the blood. A couple stitches would fix her up, but performing minor surgery on herself would be hard with a gunfight going on in the next room.

It was only at that moment she realized the shooting had ceased. Though several voices carried to the second floor balcony, Reagan couldn't make out the words. After taking a minute to gather her strength, she wiped the blood off her hands on her jeans and got to her knees. Using the bookshelf beside her, she slowly dragged herself off the floor. She kept one hand on the wall for added support as she shuffled toward the stairs and used her free hand to keep pressure on the wound. The sooner she could stop the bleeding, the sooner she could help her siblings.

"Hello? Guys?"

She immediately recognized Vanya's voice coming from below her. While the shooting had stopped, there was still a distinct chance that her sister was obliviously walking into a dangerous situation. Reagan steeled herself and jogged the rest of the way to the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. When she reached the bottom, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to help push through the lightheadedness that suddenly washed over her. She continued toward the living room where Vanya was waiting with her back turned to Reagan. Except she wasn't alone.

"Vanya!" Reagan yelled as one of the assailants stepped into view behind her sister. Vanya turned just in time to duck below the mace he was swung at her, but he was able to hit her with his free hand before she could dodge it.

Without a second thought, Reagan charged at the taller man, using the momentum to catch him in the side with a high kick. It didn't seem to have any effect on him, but it did make him to turn his sights on her instead of Vanya. While Reagan wasn't any bigger or stronger than her sister, at least she knew how to defend herself. Their father never saw the point in teaching any fighting skills to Vanya since she wasn't a "real member" of the Umbrella Academy. Unfortunately, the notion had become another thing that her father was wrong about.

Reagan skillfully evaded several swings of his arms as the man tried to shorten the distance between them to get the upper hand. If she let him get close enough, he could easily knock her out with a single punch. She only moved forward to kick him in the chest, hoping it would push him back. Reagan winced when he caught her and tightened his fingers around her ankle.

The man yanked hard on her leg, jerking her forward before she could brace herself. He grabbed Reagan by the throat and she cried out as his fingers dug into the open wound on her neck. She clawed at his hands, but it did nothing to loosen the hold he had on her. Instead the man lifted her off the floor. He slammed her against the nearest wall several times before finally releasing her.

She crashed to the floor, coughing violently as her airways opened up again and a rush of oxygen flooded her lungs. Reagan attempted to ignore the pain coursing through her as she rolled onto her back. Despite being injured and vulnerable, nothing could stop her from fighting back if he came at her again. Those were the same odds she fought against ever since she was a kid.

"Hey, asshole!"

Relief washed over Reagan when Luther's voice reached her ears. Her attacker quickly lost interest in her when he noticed the much larger target standing behind him. She had no idea where her brother had been this whole time, but she was glad he picked that moment to finally show up.

"Thank fuck," she mumbled as she weakly clamped a hand over her still bleeding neck. With her pounding headache growing stronger by the second it was almost impossible to keep her eyes open. Reagan blinked heavily a few times, trying to fix her blurring vision. Despite her efforts to stay awake, the exhaustion was too overwhelming and she was pulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Diego leaned over to pull Reagan's blanket up over her shoulder. There were several things he wanted to tell her about, him shutting off their mom being the first, but it would have to wait. He exhaled and glanced around the living room which was still a mess of scattered bullet casings and trashed furniture.

After they got rid of the two masked intruders, he'd found his sister lying in a bloody heap on the living room floor and carried her to the couch where Pogo did his best to tend to her injuries. It had been a few hours since he told Diego and the others that she would be fine. Her head would heal on its own and the stitches on her neck would come out in a week. She just needed some rest.

Sighing, Diego squeezed his sister's hand. It was partially his fault that Reagan was hurt that badly. He should've known she would try to play hero just like she did when they were kids and he should've been there to help her. It was his job to protect her, and this wasn't the first time he'd failed, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure this would be the last time.


End file.
